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**Ellen:** These filled pastries, tri-cornered to mimic Haman's hat and served during Purim celebrations, were a source of conflict in the Kassoff family growing up. Mom didn't give in to her children's entreaties not to buy any filled with prunes or poppy seeds, so a grabfest would occur amongst my brothers and me to see who could get to the apricot-filled ones first.

**Rae:** We wanted to come up with a version of this Purim pastry that was light and crumbly but not dry, and these really fit the bill. At Mile End we make the three classic kinds: apricot, poppy seed, and prune. If you want to make a mixed batch, just make all three fillings, using a third of the amount of each of the filling ingredients called for below. Mile End's baker, Rich Maggi, swears by his tortilla press for flattening the dough, though a rolling pin will also do the trick.

The bris (circumcision) of my twins, Jake and Joey, was rather hectic. After Jake's turn, I was instructed by the mohel to take him upstairs and comfort him. That meant that I completely missed Joey's turn. I was starving and remembered that my friend Trudy Jacobson had brought me her challah. It has a unique sweetness from the honey, a very soft texture from the margarine, and I think the saffron performs some other magic to create a very tasty challah. The rising times are longer that my classic challah, but worth the time.

The matzoh layers are soaked in coffee and though softened, they dry out when chilled and hold the dessert together. The first version of the recipe was made in a loaf pan and served ten but I quickly realized that on Passover, the crowds are bigger. To serve ten, just halve the recipe and prepare in a 12-inch loaf pan.

This is the easiest cookie you will ever bake. It is made as one large cookie that you cut after baking. Sablé means sandblasted, which describes the grainy texture of these cookies perfectly. I saw cookies like these during my travels around Brittany in the northwest region of France, where they use enormous amounts of butter in everything they bake. For a Sephardic twist, I like to add orange blossom water to this parve version of the famous French cookie.

Have you ever visited the marketplace of Jerusalem and noticed small wooden imprinted molds with handles? To be sure, the merchant is hard put to explain their significance. They are ma'amoul molds. Ma'amoul means "filled" in Arabic, and these molds make filled cookies eaten by Jews and Arabs throughout the Middle East, especially in Syria, Lebanon, and Egypt. A piece of short-pastry dough the size of a walnut is pressed into the crevices of the ma'amoul mold. A tablespoon of date or nut filling is inserted, and you close the pastry with your fingers. Holding the handle of the wooden mold, you slam it on the table, letting the enclosed dough fall out. On the top of the cookie is a lovely design. After baking and rolling in confectioners' sugar, the design stands out even more. Of course, the ma'amoul mold is not necessary to the preparation of these sweets, though it certainly adds to their beauty. The tines of a fork, tweezers with a serrated edge, or a tool of your own devising will do quite well. The following ma'amoul recipe came from Aleppo to the Syrian Jewish community on Ocean Parkway, Brooklyn. These cookies are served at Purim. A similar cookie, called karabij here (nataife in Syria), topped with marshmallow fluff, is also served at Purim. Arasibajweh—rolled cookies from the same dough and stuffed with dates—are served at the New Year or Hanukkah.

Called Jewish wontons or raviolis, kreplach are pasta dumplings, usually triangular in shape, filled with minced meat, onion-spiced potatoes, or cheese. Kreplach carries a lot of lofty symbolism; its triangular shape represents Judaism's three patriarchs: Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Equally lofty: the Jewish momma who can roll her kreplach dough to optimum thinness (so that, according to Sam Levenson, "a tempting bit of their buried treasure should show through"). If the wrappers are not paper-thin, your kreplach will taste like "craplach." However, though we've included wrappers in this recipe, there's really no reason to knock yourself out making them. Just purchase wonton wrappers in a Chinese food store or supermarket, and making kreplach becomes a cinch. There's even a kosher brand called Nasoya, available in many supermarkets; look for it near the tofu.

_**Editor's note:** The recipe and introductory text below are excerpted from Joan Nathan's book [](http://www.ecookbooks.com/products.html?affiliateID=16283&item=01347)_[The Foods of Israel Today](http://www.ecookbooks.com/products.html?affiliateID=16283&item=01347). _Nathan also shared some helpful cooking tips exclusively with Epicurious, which we've added at the bottom of the page.
Almost every restaurant in Israel features turkey schnitzel on the menu. Most homemakers buy it breaded and frozen and serve it preceded by hummus, tahina, and other salads for a quick main meal. As I went from table to table throughout Israel, I found the dish to be more or less the same, prepared with spice combinations that vary depending on the ethnic background of the cook. Yemenite Jews, for example, add garlic, cumin, turmeric, cardamom, and _hawayij._ Polish cooks often use matzoh meal. A classic schnitzel includes both butter and oil, which has been changed to just oil in Israel. Even in remote corners of Latin America, restaurants try to woo Israeli travelers by putting up signs in Hebrew saying WE HAVE SCHNITZEL._

Roasting the meat uncovered during the last hour allows the sauce to reduce. Serve with the [Cauliflower-Leek Kugel with Almond-Herb Crust](/recipes/recipe_views/views/231889) and steamed asparagus. The brisket can be made two days ahead.

Everything is approximate with brisket and tzimmes, since some people can't stand prunes and others want nothing but. The amounts listed below are estimates; feel free to change them. Though Karen Stabiner calls for first-cut brisket, which is relatively lean, we prefer the more evenly marbled second cut for moister, more succulent meat.

To make this bread easier to prepare, shape the dough into two loaves after the second rising instead of forming braided loaves, as is traditional. Place each loaf in a buttered 9x5x3-inch loaf pan and continue as per recipe.

The following _tsimmes_ with beets, turnips, carrots, and meat came from Vilna to Brooklyn earlier in this century. When I make this for my family I do not tell the children that it includes beets and turnips. For some unknown reason they never ask me how the dish became so red. They love it.

In nineteenth-century America, _kichlers_ or Haman's Ears for Purim Night were small cookies (_kichel_ is cookie in Yiddish), sometimes made from a pound-cake batter, deep-fried in butter, and bathed in sugar syrup flavored with cinnamon and rose water. Notice that butter was used in this age before vegetable shortening.
Haman's Ears is also the American name for a _kichel, kichelkies,_ or _hazenblosen_ (blown-up little pants), thin strips of fried dough sprinkled with confectioners' sugar, similar to the Italian bugie served at Carnivale in February. "When I would ask my grandmother how much red wine to use in her _kichelkies,_ she would reply, 'Half and egg shell,'" said Flora Atkin, who enjoys making traditional family recipes for holidays. "She used to say, 'I know my recipe won't die because my granddaughter will carry on the tradition.'" She was right. Before Rosh Hashanah, each year, Mrs. Atkin makes _kichelkies_ on an assembly line with three frying pans going at once.